Send Me A Song
by Niamh929
Summary: Bella is a simple farmer's daughter living in County Kerry Ireland during the Potato Famine Setting: Ireland, 1846 . AU/OOC.
1. Market Day

**Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are property of Stephenie Meyers. All story lines are property of me.

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****Setting:**

**Ireland, County Kerry, Cahirciveen**

**1846**

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Dawn broke slowly over the hills and slower in the valleys. Its rosy fingers reached out over the green expanse of Benetee Mountain. A singular mountain in the chain known as Migillacuddy's Reek, herdsmen and traveler alike had crossed its path many a time to reach the port city of Cahirciveen. Bella was no exception.

For the better part of an hour, she had walked a steady pace along the dusty road into town. Passed farmsteads and sheep grazing fields, Bella walked hoping to make it into the village before all the favorable stalls in the market had been taken for the day.

Tugging a loose coil of weathered rope, behind the girl sauntered a slight donkey and his haul of seventy-five pounds of potatoes and root vegetables. Under foot, a yippy fox terrier scooted around the duo of travelers.

Wiping the strands of chocolate brown hair out of her eyes, Bella leaned down to scold the puppy. "Tyler, if you are going to be a bother all the way into town, you can head back to Charlie right, now. I'm sure he can use your help getting the chickens out of the shed."

The slim girl placed the dog back on the ground. He sat back on his haunches, examining her as she continued her walk, not wanting the donkey to stop in his forward momentum. Once the donkey, affectionately known as Mike after one of her father's public house friends, stopped, it took an hour of prodding or the loss of a bushel of carrots to his stomach for him to begin again.

Bella turned to see if Tyler was going to follow her the remaining mile into town or if he had decided to head back to her father. The curly haired dog had not moved since she placed him in the center of the road. It was a ploy, she knew, to get her to feel bad about being cross with him, but Bella didn't care.

"Come, Tyler," she yelled back to him, slapping her hand against her dusty skirts. The terrier stood and trotted to meet her. Bella smiled and grabbed his little body, hoisting him into one of the baskets strategically placed on Mike the Donkey's back. Tyler loved to ride high up on the donkey and greet the land as they walked.

Through the rolling landscape the three walked. Bella loved these moments alone when her thoughts weren't governed by the worries of her father or the demands of a customer at the market.

Having turning sixteen at the end of the rainy winter season, Bella was now expected to be mistress of her homestead, which meant early morning walks into town to sell her family's goods.

Their minute caravan made it to town before the Angelus Bell rang. Bella found a stall close to the head of the market and began unloading her goods. The donkey, Mike, shifted nervously as horses began making their way through the cramped paths of the marketplace.

"Don't worry, boy," Bella soothed the beast, patting down the length of his gray body. "Once I have you unpacked, I'll see to it that Stable Master brushes you down, alright?"

The animal nickered nervously, but stopped moving long enough for the girl to fully unload. Taking him by the reigns, she quickly ran a street beyond the market to stable her brute for the day.

"Hay penny," the Stable Master demanded of her with an extended hand. Worn with years of hard work, the skin of his hand scratched Bella's as she placed the coin inside.

Muttering to herself about the rising cost of things, Bella made her way back to the market. As she weaved through the crowded stalls, she passed momentarily in front of a mirror to examine herself.

Her long mane of lush chocolate brown locks fell in messy rings around her face. Her velvet smooth brown eyes were prominent because of her naturally pale complexion. A slight freckling touched her cheeks. She took note of a smear of road dirt upon her chin and worked with her spit and the hem of her skirts to wipe it clean.

The reflection of the glass was tilted violently and Bella jumped to see the stall keeper crossly examining her. "Ms. Swan," he began. "Why do you vex me so? Do you not see that I am running a business here? I would think with your own stall creating such a line that you would hurry along for commerce's sake?"

Bella swung around to see a line of woman and children gathering around her stall. "Faith and bego…" she exclaimed only to be cut off by the loud whinnying of a horse.

Holding her skirts high enough to keep them keep off the refuse in the street, Bella ran to meet her customers. Working like a woman possessed, she was able to sell all but ten pounds of her family's root vegetables before the second mass of the morning had let out of the church.

Wiping her brow with the back of her hand and taking a small break during the lull of patrons, a tiny girl with dark black hair slid into her stall and threw her arms about Bella. "Alice," she proclaimed. "By Heavens, one of these days you'll startle me to death."

"Oh, Bella, how I've missed you," Alice declared, placing her hands in Bella's. "I knew this trip into Dublin would take weeks but I never could have thought it would take the entire winter season. Can you forgive me for leaving you alone for so long?"

"Of course, I will. For we all know that a girl may not subsist on her familial acquaintances alone," Bella cracked a smile. "We all need our silly childhood friends."

"You daft woman!"

"That I am, my dear, but you love me for it. Now come and sit," Bella asked pulling up a crate for the petite girl to set upon. "Tell me all about the city."

Alice recounted her tale, beginning the fall before when she and her parents began their journey for Dublin in an open wagon to pick up a load of goods that would have waited for February to be delivered had they not gone for them immediately. "Once we had the wagon packed, we were to turn for home," Alice said with a sigh. "That's when the snows began. We were able to travel as far as the Wicklow Mountains before we had to turn back. The snows made the roads impassible."

She paused to rearrange the silver comb holding back her short black hair. "We had to go back and stay on in Dublin. Every morning, Papa would go to the Patrol station and ask about the safety of traveling. We wanted to get out of the city if we could. A rash of infestation began," Alice explain, subconsciously touching her hair. When the girl had left with her family, three months ago her hair had been longer than Bella's and even more striking for its deep raven black color. "Fleas. The entire city was crawling with fleas. And of course, there were warnings that they carried plague."

Big, wet tears began to slide down the rosy cheeks of the small girl. "Bella, Momma made me cut my hair off. All of it. I'm disgraced. I've been wearing bonnets to cover it since we left the city. How can I continue?"

Bella raised her hand to run it through the straight black peaks of hair. Considering for a moment, she chose her words carefully. "How old are you Alice?"

"Fifteen," she answered.

"And, how long did it take you to get it as long as it was?"

"I can't remember ever cutting it," she confessed. "Papa liked my hair long. And the boys always told me that it was the almost the prettiest hair in five counties," she finished, referring to her two brothers.

"Almost?" Bella asked.

"They would tease me that I was friends with you just so I could steal your hair. Now, what would they think of me?"

"They will wonder how you got so beautiful. If anything, this new style you wear could be compared to those of the fashionable women of France. Don't tell anyone that you cut it because of the fleas, tell them that it is the latest fashion. We'll see how long until those copy cats are wearing it the same way."

"You are the height of genius, Bella. I pity your enemies, you know. Thank the Heavens above that you are too nice to make any," Alice sighed, relief flashing across her face.

"Finish your tale," Bella instructed.

"Yes, well. Momma insisted that we see Edward before leaving the city. He took the family to see the theatre, though Papa insisted it was base. We were taken to dinner later that night. We introduced to a good friend and fellow scholar of my brother's, a Mister Henry Grattan Guinness of the St. James' Gate Guinesses."

"You dined with a Guinness?" Bella asked increduous.

"I was as flabergasted as you, my dear," Alice insisted. "He was charming but distant."

"They say he is nothing like his grandfather, Sir Arthur Guinness."

"I would say not," she confirmed. "He's studying to become a priest at Trinity College with Edward. He must be a different man than his ancestor. Nevertheless, he was a good looking man."

Alice smiled. "Edward introduced us to many of his friends. There was many a fine gentleman in the group."

Bella laughed at her friend. She could always count on Alice to find a suitor amongst a group.

"We left the next morning, a week previous, and finished our journey unmolested. I do enjoy the countryside, but long for the comforts of home. We were sorely missed I hope," Alice pressed her body to Bella's.

Hugging back, Bella answered. "Never have I missed anyone like you, Alice. You are my sister, if not in blood, in faith."

"Bella," Alice sighed as she broke apart from their hug. Looking to the sun, she sighed again. "I've been sent on an errand for Papa. Emmett has been watching the store since we left. He needs helping moving stock from the backroom to the store front. I've been asked to find some able boys. Have you seen the any running around?"

"Tell Emmett that I'll be there to help after I bring Mike back to Charlie," Bella said gathering up the empty sacks about the stall.

Alice smiled. She knew what a strong girl Bella was. "He was expecting you'd be there," Alice said with a wink. "Be there by noon and he'll throw in lunch," she finished, speaking over her shoulder as she left the market stall.

Bella walked as quickly as possible back to the homestead and pushed Mike into the donkey shed behind the house. "Dad," Bella called out into the field, seeing her father cutting deep furrows into the ground. She ran to him taking the hoe from his hands. "Dad, I'll be in town for a while. Til after supper, I think. Can you make it on your own for the evening?"

"Am I not an adult?" he asked with a light chuckle in his voice. "Is the Masen family back?"

"They got in yesterday afternoon. Alice has already been to the market to see me. Her father sent her to get some town boys to help Emmett move boxes around the store."

"And of course, you'll be doin' that now, won't you?" Charlie eyed her suspiciously.

Bella grinned a polite smile to her father. "Dad, we all know I'm stronger than the any boy in the town, including Jacob Black."

"You'll never see a Black pushing boxes around the Masen's store. They're too …"

"Dad!"

"I know, I know, Bella. I shouldn't speak ill of the Blacks," Charlie said before taking a deep swig from a canteen of water.

"They've been more than honest with us," Bella admonished. The Blacks, a family of wealthy English landlords, owned the property which Bella and Charlie Swan rented. The vast majority of the crops they raised were handed over to the Blacks as payment for the land. Whatever was left was deemed the Swans to eat or sell as they saw fit. Through the years, the elder Black, William Black, had allowed Charlie to lessen his payment for the homestead as the price of the potato dropped.

"They are good to us," Charlie admitted. "Now, go earn some lunch helping Emmett. But stay out of the back room unless Mr. or Mrs. Masen is there."

"I will, Dad," Bella chuckled walking briskly for the road and town three miles below. Charlie had been worried about Emmett's intentions towards Bella since she was a girl of eight. The boy, a year older than herself, had taken to the friend Alice brought home from school like a bee to honey.

He was rugged and handsome but Bella had never felt anything more than sisterly love for the burly young man. Standing at the entrance to the Masen General Store, Bella looked in to find Emmett standing a head taller than she remembered him. His shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows he lifted a large wooden crate above his head and placed it on a shelf.

"Emmett," Bella called to the boy. His face broke into a grin as she approached him in the dimly lit store. "Alice said you needed help."

"Always," he admitted in his deepening teen voice. Before she could move, the strapping boy had closed his arms around her like a bear trap, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

"Can't … breathe …" she gasped and he released her. She righted her skirts and blouse as the raven haired young man reached around behind the counter and presented Bella with a stick of lemon honey candy.

"I'm sorry," he said handing her the candy. "I forget my own strenght some times."

"None of us do after hugs like that!"Bella admonished with a smile. "Conas tann tu? **(see translation below)**"

Knowing the girl spoke in jest, Emmett tosselled her hair and headed for the back of the shop. "I'm well. Come help, ok!"

"Is your mother here?" Bella asked looking around the front of the store for her. A wizened woman stood in the corner looking at a jar of soothing burn balm made from the flowers of a tree that grew in the fields nearby.

"No, Papa's in the back, taking inventory and unloading the stock from Dublin, but Momma's at home with Alice. Someone has to get a room ready for His Highness," Emmett finished with a grimace.

"His Highness?" Bella asked following Emmett to a stack of boxes, five crates high. Emmett began pulling the boxes from the top. Stacking two upon one another he lifted them and motioned for Bella to take the top one.

"Edward, the Great," Emmett joked. "He's returning for the summer."

"Why?" Bella burst out, not controlling the timbur of her voice which broke.

Emmett cocked his head looking her over before answering. "Our uncle, the one that pays for Edward's schooling at Trinity, he believes that Edward would do well with a summer at the shore. Since Edward is against heading to Bath, he has opted to come home for sometime before taking a job as his own."

Bella nodded. The Masen's had always spoken of their eldest son Edward, who was raised by his mother, Elizabeth's, widowed brother. Bella had never met the seventeen year old young man but felt the same familial love for him that she did for his siblings because of the way that they spoke of him.

She knew that in their mother's eyes, the prodigal Masen child would be returning home this summer. Life was about to become infinitesimally more difficult for Emmett and Alice, who both feared that they would be expected to wait on their eldest brother. Emmett was quiet that day. Speaking little and moving fast, the two teenagers were able to clear the last of the boxes from the store room.

"And, what of Edward? How are his studies progressing?" Bella asked Emmett as they moved goods from the boxes to the display shelves of the store. Tiny bottles of white powder and vials of clear, sweet smelling liquids were placed next to each other. The blue colbalt of the bottles sparkled in the fading light of late afternoon.

"He has finished his degree with honors, as expected. My parents expect him to take a parish in the surrounding country but I think he has his eyes set on America," Emmett admitted sitting down on the empty crates and Bella continued to empty hers. "I've always wanted to see America."

"Not I," Bella stated, steadfast. "There shall never be a land like my Eire. Nothing could lure me from her green fields.

"We'll see how you feel when we grow up and you marry some gent that wants to travel west," Emmett prodded.

"Never. For there is no love worth leaving Ireland for," she said placing the last blue bottle on the shelf overhead. "There. I'm finished. Well, I should be heading home. The Angelus will be ringing soon. Charlie would never say it but he is expecting dinner on the table."

"What would he do with out you, Bella?" Emmett asked putting a two wrapped packages in her hands.

"Probably starve. What are these?" she asked.

"Payment for your help today. Some soda bread that Momma made especially for Edward. I swiped a loaf for you. And a package of sugar," Emmett beamed with pride.

"Sugar? Emmett Masen! We haven't had sugar to spare in this quantity since I was nigh a girl." Bella tried to push the second package back into Emmett's hands. "The soda bread will surely get you into trouble, I don't need your mother hunting me down for her missing sugar."

"Take it, Bella. I bought it from the store myself. You earned it." Emmett gave her a stern look that told her to stop arguing if she valued their friendship.

"There. That's better," he said watching her slip it into a basket at her arm. "Will you be at the market tomorrow morning?"

"No, I've sold the produce for the week already. But, if you or Alice is looking for a diversion, I should be down at the Fertha or on the Strand fishing."

"Alright. I might take you up on that. Edward's due to reach us tomorrow. I don't want to be around for the homecoming celebration."

Bidding their farewells for the evening, Bella began her hour's walk back up the side of the Benetee Mountain to her family home. The roads twisted and turned, ground into the land when the meandering flocks of sheep were driven to market in Cahirciveen.

Trudging home after her exhausting day of work, strangers passed her walking in and out of town. New faces were not uncommon in the port town. Each new face, each new horse, each new wagon brought money to the town and its inhabitants.

Verdent and alive, Bella passed the tall saw grass growing wild amongst the untamed fields, barren of farmer or produce. The blight had come many years ago, spreading across the farmlands, a pox on the potato plants. The scarcity of food had been bad in the beginning as food rotted in the fields. What was edible was taken by the English landlords and sent overseas for sale. Many townspeople and the farmers from the surrounding county had banded together and begged the landlords to help their families. With a touch of humanity they acquiesced.

Passing one such vacant field, Bella spied a riderless horse grazing lazily about the undergrowth. It walked in wide circles about a flatten area of grass. She assumed the chestnut mare's owner must be resting unseen.

Not paying attention to the road, Bella stumbled and fell hard to the dusty ground. "Ouch!" she yelled and rolled into a low trench that followed the path up the mountain.

Pain radiated through her right arm. Blinding white spots blinked in front of her eyes before the world grew black.

Gentle pressure to her side woke the girl. "What's this then?" she muttered in a haze trying to move away from the feeling at her side. It followed her.

Beside her, the chestnut mare stood ten feet away, tethered to the rock way on the far side of the slight ravine. In the darkness, Bella was able to make out a man who sat nearby, his head resting on his arms crossed over his folded legs. His eyes popped open when her skirts rustled as she tried to move about.

"Miss," he spoke. "Miss, I would recommended holding fast and still if you would."

"What do you know of it?" Bella accused, still trying to stand. She couldn't make her right arm move the way she wanted.

"You've injured yourself ma'am," the stranger took a step towards her. "It would be for the best if you allowed me to help you home. I believe you've taken a nasty fall."

Closing the gap between the struggling girl and him, the stranger knelt down and offered his hand. Bella clasped it with her left as the man pulled her right. "There, I'm fine now, I just …" Bella gestured with her arms, shooting pain through them. "Aowwww!"

"Miss, if you'll listen to me?" Bella nodded her ascent to the man. "I would like to offer you a ride home. You've dislocated your shoulder. While you were unconscious I was able to mend your injury but you will be sore for sometime."

Bella inspected her arm. The pressure on her side had been a tightly wound bandage holding her appendage firmly to her body. Not caring for social graces, Bella's left hand wound its way to the top of her skirt, searching for her hidden coin purse. If this stranger could have popped her arm back into the socket of her shoulder while she lay unconscious, what would have stopped him from stealing her coin?

"I think you'll find it safe," he chuckled. His laugh reminded her of the spring song birds that would begin to wake her in a few weeks time. "Here, let me help you onto Ruby, my mare."

"Thank you, sir," Bella answered. The man held her firmly, helping her to place herself onto the horse before he joined behind her.

"You're light enough for me to ride behind, if you are alright with that?" he asked. She nodded. "Where do you live?"

"Almost a mile from here. Keep following this road, the Barr Na Sraide, until you reach the road for Canburrin. My father's land is a twenty minute walk from the road to the village," Bella answered, already feeling fatigued again.

"I'll have you home before the sun finishes setting," he said looking to the sky over the ocean. "Before the sun lights the water."

With an order for movement, Ruby took to the road, moving swiftly amongst the rocky debris and detritus about it. Bella felt herself falling asleep. Upon the horse, she knew the rider would not let her fall off. The rider sighed as the younger girl relaxed backward against him. Closing in on her homestead, he was reluctant to move the horse at such a quick pace, so as not to startle her father.

Dismounting, the young man reached up for the girl, pulling her down. With a swift rap of his boot to the door frame, the stranger alerted Charlie that he was entering the home. Bella in his arms, he was graciously accepted. He introduced himself and explained what had happened to the young woman. He ordered her to remain in bed for the day to follow and to not be allowed to complete difficult labor until her arm had strengthened itself.

Charlie was thanking him as Bella drowsily shook herself awake. The stranger, stopping at the door frame, locked eyes with her. His eyes, the same green as the emerald fields around her home, burned into her. "I hope your arm heals well, Miss Swan," he wished her before sweeping out the door.

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**Explanation of terms**: 

**Angelus** – Bells that are rung at 6 a.m., noon, and 6 p.m. reminding members of the Catholic faith to pray.

**Haypenny** - A slang term for the coin of Irish currency known as a halfpence. Halfpence would equivalent to a half penny in American dollars although the monetary equivalent is not accurate.

**"Conas tann tu?"** – translates to "how are you?"

"**Faith and begora**" – is a saying mean something akin to "Oh my God!"

**Public House** – the term "pub" is a slang word for a public house. It is a meeting and/or gathering place for all people and became a place to get food and beverage, including alcoholic libations.

**Eire** – Gaelic for Ireland

**Gaelic** – language of the Irish people which is making a resurgence in the country.

**Places explanation:**

**Cahirciveen** – a small port city which is considered the capital of the Iveragh Pennisula in County Kerry, Ireland.

**Fertha** – a river which runs to the north west of the city bisecting the main hub of the city and the Benetee Mountain from the fertile farmland and beach beyond.

**Strand **– Also known as the White Strand, it is a stretch of beach.

**Benetee Mountain** – a mountain that backs up to the city of Cahirciveen. Part of Macgillycuddy's Reeks.

**Macgillycuddy's Reeks** – mountains in the southwest point of Ireland (County Kerry) which contain the highest point in Ireland, Carrauntoohil.

**Trinity College** - (_Coláiste na Tríonóide_ in Irish), corporately designated as the Provost, Fellows and Scholars of the College of the Holy and Undivided Trinity of Queen Elizabeth near Dublin, was founded in 1592 by Queen Elizabeth I[1 as the "mother of a university", and is the only constituent college of the University of Dublin. Trinity and the University of Dublin form Ireland's oldest university. Trinity is located in the centre of Dublin, Ireland, on College Green opposite the former Irish Houses of Parliament (now a branch of the Bank of Ireland). The campus occupies 47 acres (190,000 m²), with many buildings, both old and new, ranged around large courts (known as "squares") and two playing fields. (taken from for accuracy)

**Bath** – a seaside resort town in England renown for rejuvenating the spirits during the 1800s.


	2. Old Wounds

**Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are property of Stephenie Meyers. All story lines are property of me.**

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AN: Once you finish reading this chapter ... take a moment to see the pictures of Alice and Bella's dresses in my profile. (if you want that is) 

_Last chapter:_

_Charlie was thanking him as Bella drowsily shook herself awake. The stranger, stopping at the door frame, locked eyes with her. His eyes, the same green as the emerald fields around her home, burned into her. "I hope your arm heals well, Miss Swan," he wished her before sweeping out the door._

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Gray light and cool wind seeped through the structure that the Swans called home. Years of impoverished life had left the building as malnourished as her inhabitants. 

The thatch roof curled slightly in the middle where many a hand had pushed a tool through. Stead fast in their superstitious beliefs, the people of the peninsula had long adopted the custom of emptying their hands of metal implements or weapons before entering a home. Each was left above the door way, buried deep in the thick straw, packed watertight, that was used as roofing material. For, to bring an instrument of iron into the house was an immediate eviction notice to any member of the Fae who might reside within.

The weathered stone face of the house peered out to the farm lands in many spots where the white wash of paint had chipped and flaked away. The shed in the side yard had seen better days. A flock of bedraggled chickens pecked at the damp, dewy earth as a lonely goose squawked its way across the narrow path leading to the well worn front door.

The shrill honking of the goose ultimately woke Bella from the fretted sleep. She had tossed and turned throughout the night, shifting positions to find a comfortable nook to rest in. The mattress, which was made of clothing too damaged to wear and straw packing material stolen from the rubbish behind the Masen's store, did more to hinder her rest than help.

Charlie snored peacefully from his corner of their one-room home. Between them, a table and two chairs stood sentinel in the middle of the room. A third chair had been sacrificed years ago to the fire. Beneath the phantom seat, the tracks of the chair legs were still visible, worn deep into the flag staff floor with years of use.

In that missing chair, her mother, Renee had sat. Renee, so full of life, had been stolen from them before her time. Just thinking about the mother, whom she had never known, made Bella's heart ache.

Bella squeaked audibly when her tiny feet hit the freezing stones of the floor. It would stay at this temperature until the sun's rays struck the floor at midday. By the evening meal, the stones would be too warm to stand on. The fireplace, mere yards from Bella's bed, would warm them to such a temperature that her feet were likely to blister if she were not careful.

Bella loved the mornings when she dressed and washed, pretending she was a beautiful woman of Dublin, London, or even as far flung as the exotic Boston. In these moments to herself, she brushed her hair and dreamed of her future.

Dressed for the day, she would immediately head for the shed where the chickens slept off their meal from the previous night. Heavy with corn, each was nestled next to another scrawny feathered form. They huddled together, desperate for warmth against the chill March air.

Bound against her side, Bella found it difficult to work around her bandaged arm. She tried to hold the egg collection basket in her right arm as she reached under the warm bodies of the hens with her left. Once the basket was loaded less than a third of the way full, her arm ached with strain and jittered against the makeshift brace the stranger had fastened for her. She put the basket down on the floor and found it easier to maneuver around the coop.

Charlie was awoken when Bella quietly clicked the front door closed.

"Mehornin 'Ella" Charlie groaned from the corner, half yawning the sleep from his joints.

"What's that, Dad?" she asked placing ten of the eggs in a bowl on the table. The rest of the eggs remained in the basket and were stored for the time being on Bella's bed. They would be taken into town later in the day and sold or traded for other goods in the Masen's store. Emmett was good to give Bella a fair price.

"I said 'mornin' Bella'." He pulled his suspenders over his shoulders and slipping an off-white tunic over his muscular frame. "Did you sleep well?"

The grey bags under her eyes spoke for her. "No, huh? Well, the gentleman said if you were still stiff in a week that you should find a ride into Cork to see a more qualified doctor."

"He was a doctor, then?" Bella asked. She walked to Charlie's bed and picked up Tyler who slept in a ball of blankets. "Go get your breakfast," she instructed, placing the terrier outside the door. He snuffled indignantly at her before turning tail and trotting out to the chicken yard.

"Seems so," Charlie answered splashing water from the basin over his face.

Silence followed as Bella moved around the kitchen. When she was finished, Charlie sat at the table and surveyed his breakfast. Three fried eggs and an enormous slab of brown bread awaited him. He ate his portion greedily and pushed the plate to the middle of the table as Bella gingerly pushed her scrambled eggs around, taking a bite every now and again, hoping to assuage the ache in her shoulder.

"Well, I have to get to the blacksmith's. Mike threw a shoe, again. That donkey will be the death of me," Charlie announced, pulling on a heavy cable knit sweater. "Stay close to home today?"

"Nah, I'll be going into town to sell the eggs," Bella explained. Charlie nodded and departed, allowing the heavy wooden door to slam behind him.

Bella spent the remaining minutes before the sun finally crested the hills to wash the some of her father's dirtier shirts. Hanging them on the line that was strung between the side of the house and the shed, Bella watched the early morning birds twitter from bush to bush and take to the sky when Tyler rousted them from their hiding perches.

Grabbing Tyler's attention, Bella enticed him to follow her into town where she was planning to sell the excess eggs. The dog trotted behind her happily yipping at the dawning morning.

In town, Bella found the market bustling with activity, even at the early hour. She couldn't recall hearing the ringing of the Angelus but hoped that Emmett or Mr. Masen might be in store to receive her.

The door to shop held fast when she turned the handle and gave it a yank. Looking through the glass pane windows framed in oak woodwork, Bella saw that the shop was deserted and dark, devoid of its usual occupants. She chalked it up to the family's anxiety over Edward's homecoming.

Never having met the oldest of the Masen children, Bella looked forward to being formally introduced to him in the future. She wondered if he would be as kind and gentle as the larger than life Emmett or as energetic as the tiny Alice. Maybe he would have the same mirth filled blue eyes that the others had. Maybe he would be sullen and reclusive as many of the men who come back from theology training are.

And then, maybe she would never meet him.

Placing her basket by the door for the Masen's to find when the open the shop, Bella walked back down Main Street, glad of her day of respite. She walked down to the quay and passed the hurling pitch. A large stone church loomed before her, large and foreboding.

Approaching it with a diligent step, Bella bowed at the stone portcullis, touching her hand to the Holy Water. She quickly made the sign of the cross, asking for a blessing for her father, working the fields, and her mother, waiting for her in Heaven. Stepping into boxed pew, Bella knelt down, praying swiftly under her breath.

The Angelus rang and more patrons entered, filling the church to capacity. Bella was lost in her own world of prayer when a flick of a head caught her attention.

Seated in the front row of pews, directly next to the pulpit, knelt a young man. With a twist of his head, the light of the hanging candles glinted off his oddly colored hair. Like spun bronze, it shone. His perfect posture set him apart from the slumped denizens of the mass. His back was rigid, taut, as he genuflected before the priest, ready to receive his host.

Pushing the thoughts of the fair skinned newcomer out of her mind, Bella pondered her religious duties as she knew she should have been doing. She would not allow herself to become distracted by a man as Alice would on so many occasions.

But, the thoughts of the bronze hair flitted through her imagination as she prayed aloud. As the mass ended, Bella gathered up her shawl and stepped out of her pew looking to the altar where the lad stood, his back towards the congregation, speaking to the priest.

On the walk back toward the quay on the bank of the Fertha, Bella thought about her mother. She had been tempted by a dark haired stranger. Her father had enticed Renee to run away from her family and marry him. They had lived in the cottage at the foot of the Benetee Mountain for three years of married bliss before Bella had come into their lives.

It was on that night, in the hushed twilight of early September, that Bella was born and her mother's soul passed on.

Bella wanted so much more for herself. She wanted to travel to Dublin, maybe even to the continent, or to the Americas. But always, always, she wanted to return to her home, her Ireland, where the land greeted her with a smile and its lush green arms thrown open in welcome.

Sitting on the edge of the river, she kicked her legs back and forth for warmth. She wished she had set down out of range of the shadow of the massive boats moored at the dock. The sun would have warmed her tired bones.

Her shawl drooped from her shoulders. The missing weight alerted Bella to its absence and she made to turn and retrieve it. Before she could move, a strong hand was placing the thin shawl back around her.

"Emmett," she cried out. "Thank you," she finished with a blush. The young man was constantly doing kind things for her. She appreciated his friendly actions.

Bella's smile was reward enough for the man. Running his fingers through his curly, black hair, Emmett nervously shifted. "I brought your basket back."

The basket, thrust out for Bella. "You didn't need to. I would have come back later to get it," Bella said, reaching for the basket with her left arm. Emmett noticed and his face soured.

"What happened to your arm? Did Mike kick you? I heard he threw a shoe," Emmett asked.

An amusement filled laugh broke through the morning air. "No, nothing quite so dramatic," she answered. "I took a tumble on my way home last evening. As luck had it, a stranger passing knew a touch a medicine and was able to mend it as best he could."

"Does it hurt?" he asked in earnest.

"Not as bad as it could, I imagine. I've felt worse," she said, a devilish grin spreading across her face. "I've tasted Alice's cooking remember?"

"How could I forget?" Emmett laughed. Both had been sick for almost a week following Alice's attempt to bake a tart for Bella's fifteenth birthday.

When their laughter died down, Bella turned back to the boy. "Shouldn't you be at the store? Or possible, at home?"

"No," he answered, his tone bashful. "I didn't want to be in the house. Edward had returned. Momma is planning a dinner for the family."

His face finally broke into a boyish grin and he sat beside the slim girl. "Alice tried to climb out of the parlor window when Momma was calling through the house for her. She almost got away too," he said leaning back, resting his weight on his elbows. "…if her skirts hadn't gotten caught on the window sash."

Bella stared at Emmett for a moment, trying to imagine the figure of Alice slithering through the window to get her underskirts caught on a stray nail in the frame. Both teens burst into laughter at same time.

They continued to joke about poor Alice, forced to prepare the house for guests and cook in the Masen's cramped kitchen when they knew she would rather been with them, on the side of the slow moving Fertha, teasing each other and skipping stones.

As the noon bells tolled, Emmett stood promptly and held a hand for Bella. "Come with me to the store. Alice has a package for you. We got you a present in Dublin."

"Oh, Emmett. I can't accept your hospitality!" Bella spoke in frustration. She could not understand how the Masens, who made a good living at their store, were firm that she deserved presents.

"You can and you will. Consider it a late Christmas present. Plus, you have nothing to wear to dinner, this evening," he finished, a mischievous smirk half hidden as he turned away from her.

"A dress? You bought me a new dress?" Bella's excitement bubbled over.

She had been wearing the same three dresses since she left school, three years previous. Worn and faded, each was patched in different places where the fabric had finally given way. The tattered dress she wore about town this morning was especially bad, with a stain upon the skirt that reminded her of a summer cloud.

Emmett nodded and walked away towards the town proper. "Will you come tonight for dinner? Alice insists," he said, turning to face her. "I insist."

Bella smiled. Her two best friends could be counted on to include her in a family event such as the welcoming of the eldest son. She meant to tease Emmett but stopped when she caught a look of longing overcome his features, which were becoming more and more like his father's each day.

Staring out at the quay and the dock beyond, Emmett paused in his step. The two stood watching the ships bob in the current of the river that flowed to Dingle Bay and beyond to the Atlantic. "I'll make it to America, one day," he said. It was more than a simple statement; it was a proclamation that rang of truth.

Bella's hand paused on his shoulder, snapping the large boy from his revelry. "Ready to go back?" he asked. Bella nodded.

They walked back to the store in silence, coming upon the elder Edward Masen Sr. as he was preparing to eat his lunch beside the cash register.

"Is Alice available?" Bella asked.

"'Look to the heavens for there you will find your answers'," Mr. Masen quoted last Sunday's homily while pointing to the storage loft above the store. The space had doubled as a playhouse in the girls' youth and a hiding spot as of late.

Bella smiled. Alice was under the impression that her father was unaware of her hiding spot.

She scaled the rope ladder that Alice lowered when Bella called up to her. "Why are you up here?" she asked.

"Edward's party commandeered the front room _and_ the dinning rooms. My options were to sit up here with my books or sit in my room and write letters to my uncle. Edward is Uncle's favorite. Not I. Therefore, it was here," she announced, putting her hands on her hips. "Now, I believe Emmett told you about your gift."

"Don't let her deny it, I did," Emmett yelled from the floor below.

"Quiet you!" Alice bellowed back.

Bella smiled at the familial interaction. Never having siblings, she relished the opportunity to watch Emmett and Alice together.

"Yes, he did," Bella answered Alice's former question. "I don't think it was necessary."

Alice strode to the back of the loft and took a brown wrapped parcel from under the eve. Returning to her tuffet next to Bella, Alice handed the girl the present.

Bella just looked at the parchment. Gifts were a novelty and given only in the singular on Christmas Eve. Her heart thumped in her chest.

"Please open it," Alice asked. "I'm just dying to see your reaction."

Bella gently pulled back the string holding the paper in place and tugged the package open. Gasping Bella dropped the entire bundle to the floor.

Within the folds of brown paper peeked a blue material so beautiful Bella had never dreamed fabric such as it was possible. It struck her that she had never had something so fine before.

Stepping back to the half opened present, she regained her composure enough to pull the material from the parchment with a shaking hand. A wonderful sapphire blue gown was held before her. The stitching was immaculate and ornate.

"Well, put it on," Alice insisted, watching Bella from her corner.

"But, I need a …" Bella began. Alice interrupted her handing the taller girl a hoop skirt and a crinoline slip.

Alice helped Bella shimmy out of her old dress, folding and putting it to the side. Bella stood still, holding her hands skyward, as Alice pulled a hoop skirt over her head. Thinking of what she must look like, Bella laughed.

"I look like a lamp shade, don't I?" she asked.

"A little," Alice chuckled. "Now, the slip."

The girls fussed with the slip before heaving on a whale bone corset. Alice pulled the strings, tugging them taut. Bella gasped as the breath was pushed from her lungs.

Finally, the small girl helped Bella reverently pull the dress on. Tight about the waist and full at the skirt, it was perfect. Alice's mouth hung open. "Does it look alright?" Bella asked, pressing her hands against the sheen of the gown to smooth it down.

"I'd say it does. Want to let Emmett have a look?" Alice asked with a twinkle in her eye. "He'll tell you the truth."

"He'll tell me what I want to hear."

"No, I won't," Emmett's voice called from below.

"I thought I told you not to eavesdrop," Alice shot back.

"If you came down here, I wouldn't have to. Can I see how it looks?" the boy called, shuffling around near the ladder, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girls.

A twittering of voices met his ears before Alice replied, hanging over the banister of the loft, "Bella consents, on the condition that you allow us free passage to come down the ladder."

Emmett's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Go in the back room. Modestly demands it! We can't have you staring at us while we act like monkey's climbing down this ladder."

They waited until Emmett's heavy step traveled to the back of the store. Alice came down first while Bella followed behind.

"All clear," Alice announced and her brother returned to her side. Never once did he take his eyes off Bella. "Now," she declared to her awestruck sibling, "wasn't the day we 'wasted walking around Dublin,' as you put it well worth the effort?"

Emmett nodded and gave the girls an earnest smile. A tinkling of bells called him to the front of the store where a patron called for three pounds of ground oats.

"Father will let you stay in my room until the dinner, I think," Alice said, ushering Bella through the back door way. Down a narrow passage that connected the Masen's general store to the home, the girls walked in silence, afraid to alert Mrs. Masen of their presence.

"If we can get upstairs, I can dress and we can make ourselves presentable for _our_ _most noble guest_," Alice slurred her words sarcastically. Silent as a cat, Alice was able to elude her mother, slipping up the back stairway and into her room with her friend at her heals. They never saw a soul on their journey.

"If you would start the fire, I'll look for the curling barrels," Alice instructed Bella. In no time, the brunette had a modest fire going and Alice returned to her with a rod of iron that bore a hilt of wood.

"What's that?" Bella asked reaching for the iron which Alice had laid beside stone of the fireplace.

"A curling rod," she explained picking up the tool. "You heat it over the fire like this." Alice pushed the iron end of the implement into the warmth of the fire.

"Then, you take your hair and wrap it around the barrel." Alice lifted a pinch of Bella's brown hair and rolled it around the rod. "Now, we wait but a moment and then let it go."

The result was a tight tendril of curled brown hair that shone in the reflection of the fire. "It's marvelous!" Bella exclaimed. The two girls sat by the hearth and worked to curl Bella's entire mass of unruly mane. When they finished, Alice took a bag of hair pins from her vanity to pull back Bella's newly coifed hair.

Just as the sun began to set over the water, Alice declared, "I do believe I'm done."

Bella turned to face the mirror of Alice's vanity. Within its frame, the girl beheld a ghost. Every time she had insisted her father tell her about her mother, Bella imagined her to look like the girl who now stood before. The girl that she had become, she realized.

"Is that me?" she asked, touching the glass. The tight sleeves of her dress fit low on the shoulder helping the neckline to accentuate the delicate blush of Bella's throat. The elongated waist ended in a point, allowing the skirts to bounce into a bell shape.

Alice smiled from behind her, placing her hands on the older girl's waist. "Of course it is. Now, will you assist me with my garments? We've but an hour before dinner."

With that, Bella snapped back to her friend. She helped fit Alice into a similar dress as her own. Its pale yellow color was glorious next to the creamy skin of Alice's bosom. Necklaces were laid out and ranked for their merit.

Just finishing adorning Alice with her finery, the dinner bell was rung.

Bella stood to proceed down stairs and Alice laughed at her haste. "No, dear. We will make a fashionable entrance. We will wait for the next bell."

The girls amused themselves with talk of Edward's childhood at their uncle's estate outside of Dublin. A second bell was rung within the span of fifteen minutes, this one louder and more clipped in nature.

"That would be our cue," Alice announced and held the door for Bella. The girls descended through the dark hallway and stopped at the landing of the main stairs. Reaching for a table, Alice opened a drawer and produced matches to light a candle so they would not fall down the flight.

When they reached the main salon, Emmett stood waiting for the pair. His hair was sleeked back with grease, his curls threatening to revolt at any moment. "My sister?" he asked extending his arm to Alice.

Bella walked behind the pair. Mr. Masen stood in wait for his daughter's friend, offering his arm in the same fashion as Emmett.

Within the comfort of the room, Bella noticed a person standing in silhouette beside the fireplace. The dim light of the surrounding room coupled with the brightness of the fire made it difficult for her eyes to focus on the figure.

"Excuse me, Edward" Mr. Masen asked, clearing his throat. The figure by the fire did not stir. "May I present to you, our guest, Miss Isabella."

With his final words, Mr. Masen released Bella's arm to light a wicked lamp at his side. A rush of illumination fell on all the shadowy recesses and corners of the room.

The change in atmosphere caused the figure to turn to the girl, who waited for a response to her introduction. She froze when he moved, his decidedly bronze hair flashing in the glow of the fire. Staring back at her were the deep green pools that scorched in her memory.

* * *

**Explanation of terms: **

**The Fae – **basically faeries … easiest way to explain this. Look it up online if you want deeper explanations.

**Hurling** – a sport played in Ireland. The object of the game is for players to use a wooden axe-shaped stick called a hurley (in Irish a "camán", pronounced kam-awn), or a hurl, to hit a small ball called a sliotar (pronounced slitt-er) between the opponents' goalposts either over the crossbar for one point, or under the crossbar into a net guarded by a goalkeeper for one goal, which is equivalent to three points.

**Quay** - a landing place, esp. one of solid masonry, constructed along the edge of a body of water; wharf.

**Places:**

**Cork – **a large city. It was a major port city.


	3. Dinner

**AN: I know. I can't stand it either when an author goes away for months (yeah, like three months) and doesn't update his or her story in that time. You can be mad at me. You are entitled to that. I do have an excuse though. I fell in love, helped said "love" after a car accident that left him with a broken leg and then promptly fell out of love when he began to treat me like a nursemaid. Suffice it to say, it's been a rough couple of months. All I can ask is that you forgive me my transgression and continue to read Bella's story as I have written it. I would be eternally grateful for that!**

**Also, if you are lost as to what's happened, I do suggest going back and rereading. It's only two chapters ;). Enjoy! And, as always, read and review.**

**- Niamh929**

* * *

_**Last Chapter:**_

_"Excuse me, Edward" Mr. Masen asked, clearing his throat. The figure by the fire did not stir. "May I present to you, our guest, Miss Isabella."_

_With his final words, Mr. Masen released Bella's arm to light a wicked lamp at his side. A rush of illumination fell on all the shadowy recesses and corners of the room. _

_The change in atmosphere caused the figure to turn to the girl, who waited for a response to her introduction. She froze when he moved, his decidedly bronze hair flashing in the glow of the fire. Staring back at her were the deep green pools that scorched in her memory._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Dinner**

Edward's spun copper hair danced as he turned to face the girl before him. It was but a moment's pause as realization flashed across his bright eyes. In a carefully guarded movement, the young man stepped before his father to greet the bewildered woman.

Bella stood stock-still. Testing his own reserve, Edward's hand shot out, palm up, seeking hers. So close to him now, she was assaulted by the scent of freshly reaped grass and sandalwood which wrapped around her like vines of ivy. It rushed into her brain and bore down with a finality of measure. Bella inhaled once more before extending her own hand to meet Edward's.

Dwarfed in size, Bella's hand sat within the cocoon of the gentleman's. The contrast was almost humorous. Bella's hand, tiny and diminutive, was callused with years of labor in her father's, or rather William Black's, fields. While her skin was porcelain white, it was far from unblemished. Edward's hand, in contrast, was enormous. The skin, lightly tanned with the five days hard ride from Dublin to Cahirciveen, was unblemished and soft as was to be expected of a life long scholar.

"Miss Swan," he crooned, bringing raising his own hand, and, vicariously, her own, to his lips. A swift kiss was laid on its back before it was released back to its owner.

"Master Masen," Bella intoned, grabbing for the silken hem of her skirts. Lifting them slightly, she dropped into a curtsey before the older boy, her eyes dropping to the ground at her feet. With a twist of her head, her flushed cheek came into contact with her shoulder and her lids dropped to hide her eyes. Bella knew better than to meet the welcoming gaze of her superior.

Her eyes still rooted to the floor, she listened as Edward boots squeaked as he turned to his father. "If it would please you, sir, I would be honored to show Ms. Isabella your latest addition to your collection of masterpieces."

Inaudibly, the elder Masen's head was inclined in approval. Bella's eyes remained floor bound as she heard the gentleman's retreat into the dinning rooms.

A moment passed and then another while Bella remained prostrate in front of Edward.

Finally, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Do you plan to stand in that position all night?"

"Sir?" Bella questioned, unmoving.

"How can we speak if you will not look at me?" Edward asked. Bella's posture did not straighten.

When realization struck, he muttered a hasty slight oath under his breath. "Where are my manners, Miss Swan?" Bending at the waist, Edward sunk before the still curtsying girl in a reverent bow.

"I do believe that in my years away from home, I have forgotten the manners my mother did so well to instill in me," Edward concluded lifting himself straight. With his motion, Bella, too, rose and slowly allowed herself to take in the gentleman before her.

His hair swung with the movement of his body reminding Bella of molten metal as it was poured into a shaping vessel. His face was taut, his eyes narrow appraising the girl before him. His lips, like ruby lines of strawberry flesh, were drawn into a thoughtful line. Every feature seemed to be involved in examining her, who was at this moment, examining him in the same manner.

"My apologies," he offered, as his stance relaxed. "Would you take to the parlor with me? While I have told my father that I would like to show you his newest book purchase, I believe it more prudent that we speak."

"You do?" Bella asked.

"I do," Edward answered. Bella took Edward's arm as he led her into another room, out of the earshot of his family and any wait staff that might be looking for them. Bella's skirts rustled as she turned and sat on a settee before her. The walnut trim of the sofa was cool to the touch and she found herself tracing the delicate pattern of the wood, her fingers coming to a final rest on the ram's head armrest. Edward lowered himself into the arm chair whose marigold colored velvet fabric matched the Bella's seat.

"Now, Miss Swan," Edward began. He leaned forward, putting his weight on the elbows that he rested on his knees.

"Please, Master Masen. Would you call me Bella?" she asked. Her fingers worked across the face of the ram, tracing the wiry hair engraved into the wood.

"Bella," his velvet tones stroked her name, testing its feel on his tongue. "I will, only if you will stop calling me Master. My name is Edward."

Inclining her head, she agreed.

"Now, I am not accustomed to imposing on those whom I have just met…"

"But?" Bella interrupted.

"Yes," he coughed. "But, I am in need of your assistance. Is it possible, for the time being, that no mention of our interaction last evening be discussed?"

Confusion marked Bella's face. "I can," she said. "If you can explain why I am to lie to my best friend and her family."

"I am not asking you to lie," he said, tenting his fingers and drawing them to his mouth. He paused choosing his words as carefully as could be. "More, I am asking that you neglect to mention that I was the one who helped you on the road and that it was I who set your arm and placed it in the sling."

"If Alice or Emmett asks if it was you, specifically, who set my arm, I will not lie," she stated, standing before Edward. Instinctually, he stood, too. Bella held up one finger naming a condition to her statement. "But, I will not offer your name as my champion, no matter how much they nettle me."

Bella's face slipped into a smile as she thought about the teasing she might endure at the hands of her friends, Edward's siblings, were they to know about their interaction the night previous.

Edward remained stone faced, reappraising her with his startling green eyes. He wondered if she could be trusted to keep his confidence. Shifting in place, he watched her eyes rake him over from his new Dublin-bought britches to his pressed collared shirt. "But, you will not tell me why, will you?" Bella asked as the gentle tinkling of a bell reached their ears.

"No, I can not burden you with that," Edward finished, sweeping a hand out for Bella. At her question, his face had fallen, like a street dog shooed away from an open midden heap or a child who is told to go home because they are bothering an older sibling. "May I escort you to dinner?"

Entering the dinning room, Bella caught Alice's face as Edward showed her to a seat next to his sister. Flanking the ends of the table sat Mr. and Mrs. Masen. Edward held the place of honor at his mother's left hand and Emmett at his father's right. Grasping their hands, the family bowed their head in prayer.

Though she should have been asking for the Lord's blessing on her plate and giving her thanks for the day's passing, Bella found that she was mesmerized by the swirl of the pattern on the table cloth, the ticking of the clock in the hall, and the gentle tap of the servant's shoes on the slate hallways. The sorrel soup was placed in front of her and she waited for Mrs. Masen to lift a spoon to her crimson lips before Bella thought about touching the silver cutlery.

Glancing to Alice, Bella picked up her spoon in mimicry of her friend. The soup, lightly salted, was delicate to Bella's untrained palate. She closed her eyes and savored the favor before she swallowed. Upon opening them again, she found Edward, who sat across from her, with a small smile on his lips.

"Do you like Cook's soup, Ms. Swan?" Mr. Masen asked of Bella.

"It is fine indeed," she answered, patting her lips delicately with the linen napkin. "I am not used to a soup for dinner. Stew is common at our home. It's far more hardy and filling."

Bella's hand flew to her mouth. She couldn't believe her impertinence. Had she really just spoken ill of the family's meal? Even though she had not meant to insult them, she feared she had.

It was Mrs. Masen's laugh that brought her attention back to the table. "Oh, Bella," she said between guffaws. "You really are too much. Darling, the sorrel soup is the first dish. More will follow, I assure you. It will be just as hearty as you are used to, more so, I dare say."

It seemed as if all the Masen's chuckled at Bella's incorrect proclamation that dinner would be concluded with the soup. Her cheeks darkened with the blush she could no longer stave off. And Alice and Emmett's laughter broke out again in peals.

She glanced up to meet Edward's eyes. His gaze was heavy with something she couldn't put her finger on. And in the blink of an eye, Edward's elbow shot out and knocked the terrine of soup from the table.

In the flurry of activity and servants rushing to clean the mess, Bella was able to compose herself. She lay the spoon down and folded her hands in her lap. Would nothing this evening go as planned?

Mr. Masen cleared his throat as the last of the servants left the room. "Edward, I didn't think that at seventeen I would have to remind you to watch your arms. Truly, have you been removed from good society so long that you have begun throwing your elbows around like a prize fighter?"

"No, sir," Edward replied, touching his linen napkin to his lips. Bella took a moment to steady her reserves before drawing her eyes back to Edward. She had forgotten that though he had been born in the rural fishing village in the southeast-most county, he had been raised in the parlors and estate homes of Dublin and London. He had been given every luxury that his maternal uncle could afford.

Bella had grown up sowing the fields with produce and bearing the harvest to market. She was no better than a street urchin in comparison to the Masen family with whom she dined.

Edward's green eyes met hers and a smile flickered across them. He hoped that she realized he had created this distraction to stop his impertinent siblings who had been laughing at Bella's cost.

It was shocking to watch a light smile creep across the face of the girl in front of him. He hadn't noticed the play of candle light on her creamy skin or the golden hints in her hair of deep brown. Dressed as she was, she might even pass for gentile in polite society.

Bella almost could not stand the scrutiny of Edward's eyes. Had he knocked over the soup to save her from humiliation in front of the Masen? She could almost believed he had.

Quietly, the wait staff had moved into position and began removing soup bowls. At the head of the table, Mr. Masen rose to receive the crusted roast lamb that two smiling attendant walked in. "Edward, m'boy, would you do the carving?" he asked extending the hand of a sheathed carving knife towards his son.

Emmett and Alice inhaled sharply and Edward slowly lifted himself from the table. "I … I would be honored," he sputtered.

In the din of dinner service about them, Bella leaned over to Alice. "Why did you gasp?" she asked.

Alice nodded her head back towards the elder of her two brothers. "Father has never asked anyone to carve dinner. I can not recall a single instance," she said with reverence. "He must be pleased to have Edward back at home."

Bella could see the slight smile touching Edward's lips as he drew the blade across the lamb in cuts of marked precision. Servings of baked parsnips dotted with bacon, buttery creamed kale, and scalloped potatoes were placed on Bella's plate before she realized that Edward was beside her, offering her the first slice of lamb.

"To the guest," he offered.

"I mustn't," she argued. "You are the guest of honor, sir. Not I. It is your night to enjoy the spoils of your labor."

"Nonsense," he retorted, placing a medallion of meat on her plate. "I could not _enjoy_ a thing if it meant your displeasure."

"Thank you," Bella said, shrinking back from Emmett's accusatory glare.

Edward rounded the table offering his mother, father, and siblings' meat before sitting before his own plate.

"Miss Swan," Mrs. Masen began, dabbing at the corners of her lips with her linen. "Alice tells me you were injured last evening on your way home."

Bella tossed an angry glare at her friend who was suddenly engrossed with the task of pushing her kale away from her parsnips. "Yes, ma'am," she acknowledged. "I stumbled and fell in the darkness. I kind gentleman was able to help me," she said, slightly lifting the bandaged arm.

"You were lucky a man of medicine happened by," Mr. Masen clucked, tucking a forkful of lamb and crust into his open mouth.

"I was," Bella answered, looking solemnly at her plate.

"It was dislocated, I presume?" Edward asked, feigning ignorance.

"Yes, Mast- … Edward," Bella caught herself before she called the gentleman the formal appellation due to him for his birth order.

"Did you know the doctor?" Emmett asked. Placing his fork down on the table, he gave Bella's answer his full attention. "Doctor McGraill came into the store late last evening looking for smelling salts. Was it he?"

She would surely tell his secret now. Edward shuffled his feet nervously under the table awaiting Bella's answer.

"I can not be sure," Bella began. "I may have passed out for some time. The pain was near unbearable. I don't recall Dr. McGraill's face, though. The gentleman was younger."

Edward's heart picked up pace. She was going to spill, even though he had her promise.

Inhaling a deep breath, he watched as Bella's face reddened, a stark contrast to the creamy skin beneath the apples of her cheeks. "I don't recall meeting the man who helped me before last night," Bella admitted.

Edward exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. _Trustworthy_, he thought of the girl across the table from him. _And quick witted, too. _She hadn't lied outright. Nothing she had said was false, far from it actually. She had told the truth in each sentence. Somehow, the knowledge that another soul knew his well guarded secret was not as frightening as Edward thought it would be.

The meal progressed in a rush of servants taking the dirtied dishes to the kitchen. New plates topped with a crème coffee pudding under a chocolate sauce were placed in front of each diner.

"Edward, what will you do while in Kerry?" Bella asked, hoping to extend her stay in the Masen house for a few more minutes. She pulled a spoonful of the rich cake to her lips and parted them. The favors bounced around her mouth and it was all she could do not to moan in appreciation.

"Well, Miss Swan," Edward began. "I do intend to see to Father's interests in town and within the county, if possible. I had hoped to take some time to enjoy my family whom I have been away from for sometime, as you will recall. Though, I plan that I will…" he paused, choosing his words carefully. "I will have an active hand in seeking employment."

"Edward," Mrs. Masen reached forward and took her son's hand. "Do you not wish to take over the church from Father Rooke when he retires this coming winter?"

"Mother, I do not know that I plan to stay in the country. I may find opportunities in Dublin, England, or the States …" his voice trailed off speaking the last words. "I do not wish to speak of this now, though," he finished, commanding an end to the topic of conversation.

With the conclusion of the meal, Emmett turned to his friend. "Bella," he said, raising his great height from the table. "Might I walk you home? I would ease my mind if I saw you safely there in light of your recent traumas."

"Is that prudent?" Mrs. Masen asked.

"Alice may chaperone, if you see fit," Emmett said, expectantly holding out his arm for Bella who had placed her linen on the seat beside her and rose to her feet.

"No need," Edward interrupted. "I believe I could use fresh air. I shall chaperone," he said, spitting out the last words which hung offensively in the room.

In a rush of movement, both men moved to Bella's side, ready to escort her from her seat and out the door. "You move in haste," Alice said with a laugh. "Bella and I have to return to my chambers. She has left her belongings there."

Emmett's hand, so ready moments ago to usher Bella along, dropped to his side. "Please be quick, sister. I wonder if Miss Swan is not exhausted after her tumultuous day."

Retrieving her parcel, now stuffed full of the clothes she had left home wearing this morning, Bella and Alice hustled back down to the parlor where the Masen brothers awaited the brunette.

"Slán a chur le duine **(see translation below)**," Alice called her farewell to her friend.

"Slán a fhágáil ag duine **(see translation below)**," Bella responded running back to Alice to brandish her cheek with a kiss.

Edward's arm shot out to help Bella across the threshold. Emmett's barely disguised growl sounded as a cough.

"Your home?" Edward questioned Bella. A light smile of commiseration touched her lips. This would be the second night in a row that Edward had seen her home.

"We head for the Barr Na Sraide and then the road for Canburrin," Bella replied, feeling warm against the gentleman's arm despite the chill spring air about them.

"Bella, Edward can stay behind if you wish …" Emmett began before being cut off by the clatter of hoof falls behind them.

"Who is this?" Edward wondered aloud.

"The Blacks," Bella answered as a dark carriage pulled by two midnight black Friesian horses stopped in front of the trio. **(See a picture of Jacob's horses in my profile.)**

"Miss Swan," a thick voice called out from the darkness of the carriage window.

"Master Black," the girl at Edward's arm answered, pulling away into a curtsey. The movement, used not two hours ago to greet him, angered Edward when she bowed to the man in the carriage.

Edward threw a questioning look to his brother who mouthed back: "Jacob Black." With a curt nod of the head, Edward thanked Emmett and drew his frame in front of Bella. "Black," Edward nodded toward the opening. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you. Edward Masen, the second."

The sound of movement in the carriage was followed by the wide swing of the door. Belching forth its inhabitant, the vehicle rocked on its axils as a tall body stepped forth from the interior's gloom.

The Englishman and Irishman squared off before each other, appraising one another before extending hands to shake. "Masen," Jacob acknowledged. "I do not recall meeting you before. I presume you are Mr. Masen's eldest?"

Edward nodded once and turned back to Bella, who had not raised her eyes to meet the talking men.

"Miss Swan," Jacob bowed at the waist before the girl. "I would be honored to transport you home." With a flourish of his wrist, Jacob opened the carriage door and motioned for Bella to step aboard.

Taken by surprise, Bella stepped back away from the men. It was Emmett's voice that brought the girl back from her astonishment. "We will see her home," Emmett insisted.

A wall of muscle had been erected in front of her. Both Masen men had lobbied themselves between Jacob Black's carriage and the girl they sought to see home.

"I have business with her father," Jacob declared, his dark gaze locking on to Bella's. "Important business. It is folly not to offer my help to the lady. She will ride with me."

Diminutive next to Emmett's six and a half feet and his own six feet, two inches, Bella pulled on her reserves and stepped around the two men. "Thank you Edward," she nodded to man. "And you too, Emmett. I believe I will accept Master Black's offer. My doctor asked me to take it easy for a while and I have been neglecting myself."

Stepping to Jacob, he helped her into the opening. "Please thank your parents again for me," Bella asked the Masen men. "It was an honor to meet you, Edward."

Settling back into the velvet lined bench, Bella found herself seated next to Jacob. Almost as an after though, she leaned her body out of the window. "Emmett, if you come across the gentleman doctor who saw to me, do you think you could send him to the farmstead in the coming week?" she said directing her gaze to Edward. "I would like to know if my arm is healing well."

"Aye," Emmett answered, a sullen shadow falling across his face. "Take care of her, Black."

"I shall. Have a pleasant night, Emmett," he nodded out the window to the taller man. "Masen," he spat with a sneer.

"Black," Edward responded, his cultured tones belying the rage of his balled fists.

Bella watched as Jacob righted himself when the horses began their clomping steps and turned his leering gaze to her. "What do we have here?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows at the younger girl.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Slán a chur le duine -** To wish someone goodbye (if you are staying behind)

**Slán a fhágáil ag duine** – To wish someone goodbye (if you are leaving)


	4. The Black Decision

_**Last chapter:**_

_**Bella watched as Jacob righted himself when the horses began their clomping steps and turned his leering gaze to her. "What do we have here?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows at the younger girl. **_

* * *

In the darkened interior of the carriage's cab, Bella strained to find something other than the rakish young man before her.

"Can a girl not be escorted home by friends of the family?" she asked, as her companion tossed his wide brimmed hat across the space onto her bench.

"Hardly." He spat out the window. Adjusting the collar of his linen shirt, he untied the cravat in a barrel shape knot under his chin. His long tapered fingers undid the patterned fabric and slung the tie out like a whip, allowing it to land on the bench next to his hat.

"Miss Swan, if I may be so forward…"

"You may certainly not," Bella shot back averting her eyes to the window. She would rather look at the landscape draped in the shadows of night than to sit idly by talking to Jacob Black.

"I think you forget yourself, Bella." Jacob's eye brows raised.

"No, Master Black. I believe it is you who have forgotten himself." Bella turned from the passing land to level her glare at her companion. The Blacks were relatively new to town but integrated themselve into society quickly as they bought up many of the land deeds.

Gossip had flooded the town the week after they moved into the estate on the far side of the Ferta. **(see below) **It was said that William Black's father had made his fortune in the America's before the Revolution. It was during his times in the States that he had come to spend some time with its native people during a hunting expedition to Northern Maine. The fruits of his union with one female member was the gentleman before Bella, one Jacob Black.

_Gentleman_. Bella couldn't think of a more ridiculous and inaccurate term for the man.

His dark features contracted with her words and a large palm found the few lengths of russet hair which had worked free from a leather tong at his nape. Almost the same color and length as Bella's, Jacob's hair held none of the brilliant highlights and reminded her of mud in her father's fields after a long rain.

"Excuse me?"

"You call me Bella, Master Black. No one but my family and friends may call me that."

"As you wish, Miss Swan," he enunciated the final words with a sneer on his lips.

Silence lapsed between them for the span of a heart beat. "You never answered my question."

"I do not recall hearing your question, Master Black. Though, I do wonder if often you speak just to hear your own voice ring in your ears," Bella shot back, starting out the window once again. The carriage had made the turn from the Barr na Straid to the back road over the mountain. The horses were free to move at a brisk pace and the coachman soon had them stretching their legs.

"Pardon me," Jacob said, folding his hand in his lap. "Maybe you mistook my question before but I believed I asked you about your finery. Have you had your hand in the coffers?"

She had forgotten the beautiful dress and the care Alice had taken with her hair.

"I'll have you know, Master Black, that this ensemble was a present from Mr. and Mrs. Masen. Miss Alice Masen brought it all the way from Dublin." The nerve of that Jacob Black to question the integrity of her clothing. How dare he suggest that she had stolen money from the church to purchase them?

Her family was not well to do, under any circumstances, but she would never sink as low as to steal from the church? Right now, under his scrutiny, she felt as small as a mouse.

"It was a Christmas present," she whispered as her family's farm house came into view.

Jacob's attention was drawn to the window, surveying the land under his father's ownership. "I'm sure," he muttered, distractedly. "I see your father hasn't planted the potato crop, yet."

"He has, I assure you, in the back pasture. This field was used twice last year. Father says it was over worked and needs time to replenish before …"

"He's letting good crop space go to waste. Father will have none of this." The instant the carriage halted, Jacob was out the door and heading for the house. Bella stood at the opening agape. No one offered her assistance down so she jumped the five feet to the dirt drive below.

Before she could reach the house, the door flew open and Charlie stood before her. "Bella, darling, I need you to milk the cow. The chore slipped my mind."

Wise to her father, she knew she was being shooed away from the house where Jacob waited to speak to him. She was never allowed around when they discussed the business of the farm.

Bella rolled her eyes, sarcasm filling her voice as she mimicked her father's voice. "Why Bella, don't you look splendid. I know you had a marvelous time at the Masens'. Five proposals of marriage just this evening? Perfect." Her mocking aside, she strode to her father and planted a kiss on his ruddy cheek.

"I will milk Jess, Pa. I must change first. Miss Masen presented me with a gift before dinner. I feel like a princess," she said stepping into the house as her last word caught in her throat.

Jacob was sitting on her bed.

"If you don't mind, I must change," Bella asked him, moving the worn wooden screen between the men and her sleeping area. "It seems the cow needs milking."

"Then, by all means, have at her," Jacob's deep voice instructed. He lifted his ample frame from the girl's bed and moved around the screen to sit at the table before the fire.

"I don't know how you do things in America, or England for that matter, Master Black," Bella acknowledged from her hiding spot as she slipped free from her dress and slung it above the top of the divider. "But, here in Ireland, we don't commonly muck about in the shed or fields in our Sunday bests."

Charlie worked hard to press down a guffaw as Bella drew herself back around the screen, moving it once again to its place against the wall where shadows danced in the light from the fireplace.

She folded the beautiful blue dress before placing it in a wooden trunk at the base of her bed. Following her path back out of the cottage, Bella kissed Charlie's cheek and gave the trunk, and her dress within, a final wistful glance before heading for Jess's cow stall.

She hadn't made it five steps before Jacob's voice sounded in the night. "I would have taught that chit some manners by now, if I were her father."

"Yes, well …" Charlie cleared his throat. "Nonetheless, how may I help you Mr. Black?"

Bella walked on, not wanting to hear her father and his landlord's son bickering over land, rent, and goods.

At the mouth of the cow stall, Bella took down the hanging lantern and struck a flint at the base. The wick caught and lit up the sleeping cow. "Jess, did Pa milk you?" Bella asked the snoring cow as she walked around her pen looking for the empty milk can. It was conspicuously absent.

"Because, it's inside next to the stove filled with the milk from dinner, isn't it?" she asked. From the hay at the cow's side a soft snuffle emerged.

"Tyler," Bella called to the terrier, whose head emerged from the straw. "How was your day, fine sir?"

Tyler yawned and stretched his lean legs as he pulled himself free from the cow's bedding.

"Well, that sounds like fun," Bella responded to their imaginary conversation. Pulling her skirts high, she plopped down into the scratchy, hay-strewn lawn.

The dark light of evening pressed upon her. Tyler drew himself next to her legs and pulled himself into her lap. Petting the dog, she closed her eyes to the night noises around her. The soft murmur of the cow, Tyler's snuffing, Mike's occasional braying from his donkey shed, and the thickening chirps of the crickets announcing the coming summer months wrapped themselves around her.

"My day?" she answered Tyler's unasked question. "Well, I do believe that Emmett may hold a fancy for me. Alice gave me a fine dress of beautiful blue silks. Oh, and the gentleman doctor who set my arm last night? He is none other than Edward Masen, Alice and Emmett's brother."

Bella paused a moment to listen for the masculine voices floating on the air. Satisfied, she turned back to the sleep fox terrier. "He's just come back from Dublin. Alice says he's been studying to be clergyman. Maybe all priests have to learn a bit of doctoring?" she wondered aloud. "It was a lovely dinner though."

Bella's musing turned inward as she listened to her father's voice murmuring in the night. She had almost drifted off to sleep in the cow stall when the night's darkness was pierced with a shaft of light from the house.

The door swung closed again and Bella stood as the coachman urged the horses to move.

Inside the house, Charlie sat at the table rolling a cup back and forth on its edge. "Pa?"

At the sound of her voice, he flinched. "Oh, Bella." He stood and moved to hug the girl. "Tomorrow, I will need your help planting the fields."

Bella pulled back from his embrace to look at his face. "But…"

"I know you're injured but we've got to get a crop in the ground before Mr. Black calls our debts due." He smoothed down the unruly curls around her crown. His daughter had turned into a beautiful woman and he hadn't even noticed. "I'm sorry, Bella."

"For what, Pa?" she asked, confused.

"For everything. Because we never had the things Alice did. Because of your Ma," he sighed. "But, mostly, because I'm afraid of what might be coming on the horizon. Half of the crop is already molding in the fields and the other is already promised to the Blacks."

"We'll make due, Pa," she said kissing his cheek again. The bitter scent of spirits tickled her nostrils and she pulled back. "Have you been drinking?" she asked.

"Only a glass with Master Black," he said trying to find his seat again. He stumbled before finding the chair.

"Oh," she said eyeing the empty bottle of whiskey next to the hearth. "Just a glass?"

Charlie's eyes followed her as she moved across the dimly lit room, her feet barely making a sound as she padded across the flagstaff flooring. "And, would this be the bottle of Jameson's Mr. Masen gave to you for the Beltane two springs ago?"

Charlie's head nodded, his eyes remaining closed.

"The same bottle that had remained unopened a top the mantle just this morning?" she asked with the same accusatory tone in her voice?

He nodded pulling himself up once more. Losing his balance, Bella moved to catch him before he toppled into the fire. "To bed with you."

Helping him free of his boots, Bella swung her father's leg onto his cot and covered him from the night's chill.

Changing out of her clothes into her night frock, Bella splashed water from the wash bowl across her face. Moving around the cottage, she shuttered the windows, barred the door from highway men and bandits, and snuffed out the candle before climbing into her bed.

Under the blue-black haze of the moonlit night, Bella dreamed in the dark hours of the night and the still hours of the morning. She dreamed of her own farm where she raised lamb and grew potatoes and corn. She dreamed of her mother, of her father, and of her friends. She dreamed of her Ireland.

The cockerel coo-ca-cooed at the sun's fingers as they caressed the land, warming the grass of the mountains before spilling into the Atlantic. Rising early on five hours of sleep, Bella stoked the dying embers of the fire. Waking Charlie, they ate their meager breakfast before hitching up Mike to the donkey cart and heading for the fields.

Each day she hoped that her arm healed by degrees. She did not have full movement of her shoulder and it was impossible to lift the sacks for planting. Her fingers were numb but not unusable that she needed to complain to Charlie.

As the week passed, Bella's arm felt worse. When she moved, the bone would creak in the socket. She could hardly lift the kettle to pour out her father's tea and the muscles had begun to twitch without provocation.

Late Saturday afternoon, Bella was walking with Mike, a plow harness tight about his neck when a hare chased by a red fox bolted from the brambles that ringed their south field. Spooking, Mike rose up and yanked hard on the reins that Bella held. Running as if chased by Hellhounds, the donkey took off for the donkey shed leaving Bella in a heap by the field's edge.

Once more, pain speared her. She struggled to remain conscious as the world tilted and then corrected itself. She emptied her stomach as a wave of nausea rolled through her. "Bella?" Charlie yelled from the farmhouse.

"Pa, can you fetch Master Masen?" Bella plead. She was able to lift herself from the ground and limped the distance to the house.

"Should I get Doc …"

"No," Bella stopped him. "Get Master … get Edward Masen. He fixed it last time."

"But he's no …"

A knock sounded at the door, cutting Charlie's protestations off.

"Mr. Swan, I was coming to check on Bella's progress when I found your donkey wandering by the pass," a dulcet tone said. "This is your Mike, is it not?"

"It is. Thank you, Edward."

"Edward!" Bella shouted from behind the screen that Charlie had erected to hide her bed from the front door.

"Miss Swan?" A feral gleam over took the softness of his emerald eyes. "Is there a problem?"

"I was just coming to get you, actually," Charlie explained. "Bella's arm is worse."

"How?" he asked, pushing passed the father and storming into the cottage. Making short work of the screen, Edward pulled up a warped wooden seat from the table. "Where?"

"My shoulder," Bella hissed as Edward began to feel the length of her arm. "Mike pulled the reins. I fell on it."

"What were you doing working?" he asked Bella. She turned her face away from him, embarrassed that she had deliberately ignored his orders. "Why was she working?" he directed his question towards Charlie.

"I … I" he stammered.

"He needed my help," she confessed. "He couldn't do the fields alone. And the Blacks..."

"Bella," Charlie growled. She should have known better than to speak of family business around strangers.

Edward nodded, taking in their conversation. "Alright, it seems as if you've dislocated it, again. This is going to hurt. Can you take it?"

Bella nodded, waves of her hair breaking free of their mooring and tumbling into her eyes. Edward pushed them back with his soft fingers. Where he touched, her skin burned.

He took hold of her hand as if he wished to shake on an agreement. Before moving, his eye met hers and he whispered his apology. "I'm sorry, Bella."

With a twist and a tug, Edward felt the bone slip back into the shoulder socket. Bella's scream of pain lanced through his heart into his very core. A light sheen coated her brow and pooled at her temples.

"I'd give you morphine, Miss Swan, if I had some with me. But, as I do not, I would suggest a glass of whiskey to dull the pain," he instructed.

"Thank you," Bella said, her voice petering out. "Thank you."

"No more work for you," he said again. "Mr. Swan, why don't you show me the field where she was working?" Edward asked as Bella began to drift off.

"I don't see as how that would help?" Charlie said, rubbing the back of his neck with his callused palm.

"I do." He wanted to get Charlie alone so he could talk to him out of Bella's hearing.

"Fine."

The two men walked out into the farmyard. Mike wandered between the vegetable patch and the cow stall as chickens pecked at the worms that came out to enjoy the cool air of late afternoon.

"Please explain to me why Bella has been working in the field when she should be abed, healing?" Edward asked pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That's family business, sir," Charlie answered, catching the donkey's rope and tugging him to the shed.

"I might hazard a guess that the Blacks don't think you are tending their land well?" Edward asked. He pushed the door to the enclosure shut and brushed the rust from the latch off his palms.

"You might hazard correctly," Charlie admitted.

"They are forcing you to plant more crops than the land can handle?" Edward asked. Not truly a man of agriculture, Edward was a quick study and had been helping his own father with his holdings.

"No," Charlie hesitated. "It's just … The Blacks insist that we work all of their land, even fields that should be resting this season. That south field will produce nothing but mush. The soil is overworked. It will not produce. I have been given a choice: plant the fields and give seventy-five percent of crop to the Blacks or they will call for something I am not willing to give."

"And that is?" Edward asked.

Continuing as if he hadn't heard the younger man's question, Charlie kicked a rotting stump. "I'll be lucky if I get two hundred bushels of potato this year. Five years ago, I had to send out for help from the neighboring village to harvest my crop. Now, with this blithe … three of my four fields were completely rotted last year."

"Aye, the blithe," Edward nodded his head in agreement. The disease was ravaging Ireland, stripping the land of a major food source, leaving the crop molding and rotten in the field. "What were they demanding that you are not willing to give?"

Charlie looked back towards the modest cottage, his eyes hooded in shame. "Bella."

So, the Blacks wanted another servant in their household was it? Edward couldn't see the tenacious girl settling for that.

"Mr. Swan, I will be heading to the port in Cork to pick up a shipment for my father. If it would please you, sir, I would like to ask Bella to accompany me. I have a doctor friend who specialized in conditions and disease of the muscles. I would like him to look over Bella's shoulder."

Charlie considered Edward's offer before agreeing. "Wednesday morning we leave," Edward finished, shaking Charlie's hand. "Just to be sure that she will be fine for the night, I would like to check her once more."

* * *

**List of Places: **

**The Ferta – **river that bisects the town of Cahirciveen. One side is made up of the town proper including the docks, church, many of the residences and shops. The other side (which is reached by a bridge) is larger in size and includes the White Strand (a beach of pearl white sand), the cemetery, an ancient Celtic fort and a ruined castle. The river runs out to the Atlantic Ocean.


End file.
